


Ink Blots

by SurgicalRose



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Makeout Session, Romance, WoL being a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 04:44:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurgicalRose/pseuds/SurgicalRose
Summary: Sometimes having an open pot of ink on the desk can lead to some troubles, especially when distracted by something.





	Ink Blots

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a weird idea that I had when I realise just how exposing the level 53 Holy Rainbow gear looks on female characters...

It took every blessed ounce of Halone’s strength for Aymeric to prevent an indignant sound of utter confusion and painfully intense instant arousal from blurting past his lips at the slight tease of Iqe’s shoulder blades being revealed to the Lord Commander, as the miqo’te shed her winter coat. He absent-mindedly wets his lips as he watches her partially exposed back shiver and immediately finds his gaze enraptured by the sudden swish of her tail, only to treat himself to view of her stocking-clad thighs.

“Seven hells, it is freezing out there! I honestly cannot wait until I’m eligible to craft myself something more suitable to Ishgardian weather…” Iqe hisses out, as she hurriedly stepped out of her shoes to trot over to the raging fireplace.

He hesitantly chuckles, reluctantly drags his gaze back down at the report and clocks the growing blot against the parchment he accidentally made. Aymeric inwardly sighs at the hours of work he just lost, only to find his sigh mirrored by the miqo’te removing the collar around her neck and leisurely unclasping her bracelets, setting the items down noisily on the table.

The Lord Commander couldn’t help but feel as if she was making that delightful sound for the sole purpose of attracting his attention. He couldn’t deny that it was working though. He felt his trousers tighten painfully and continued to watch her from the corner of his eye.

“It was rather interesting to hear about the fashion trends amongst the generation below me. Not so much about the tittering from the older women about my manner of dress though…” She continues, only to pause in her ramblings to slowly slip off gloves from her delicate hands with her petite canines.

Aymeric immediately wishes that the ink at his desk was suitable for normal consumption given how achingly dry his mouth was becoming as if Ifrit himself was raging a storm in the back of the Lord Commander’s throat.

She was definitely doing this on purpose.

Yes.

Definitely.

On purpose.

Especially when she brushes her fingertips against her collarbone oh so carefully and lightly flicking a lock of hair off her shoulder, before trailing it down towards the swell of her breast and the first button of her shirt.

He needs to pick his jaw up from the floor.

And stop openly leering at her.

When did he turn his head to stare at her, anyway?

He feels his cheeks colour and spread across the tips of his ears when her mischievous lavender eyes locked onto his and her damask lips curled into a knowing smirk.

She just caught him ravishing her body with those aquamarine eyes of his.

Iqe wonders how much more it would take to get the Lord Commander to crack.

Languidly, she raises her arms above her head and stretched her arms and props herself up onto her toes to stretch her legs as much as she could. Iqe sighed heavily in satisfaction upon feeling her back pop in a few places, before scooping her jewellery up and bending over to tuck them safely into the pockets of her satchel.

Aymeric realised at that point how ridiculously short her skirt was and yet she complained about the cold. The humour briefly broke the seduced spell he was under, as he snorts softly and chuckles under his breath. A large grin breaks across his face and allows himself to be freed from the tempting distraction long enough to begin fixing the mess he had made on his desk and loosen his fingers from the fists they had been tightly clenched into.

Watching the Lord Commander resume his work makes Iqe’s ears flicker in slight irritation. So, he was planning to take the high road and brush her flirtations off then?

That was fine.

She could be rather competitive when the opportunity presents itself.

And the soft chuckle from her beloved was the equivalent of throwing down the gauntlet.

“Something funny, sweetheart?” Iqe inquires, as she strode over to his desk and nestles her head atop his shoulder to get a peek at the ink-sodden report, “Oh. Did we have an accident?”

Her lips curl into a feral grin, as she felt his spine tremble at the question.

“I… Suppose so.” He rasps feeling the heat crawl down his neck. This simply was not fair for her to be so enticing to him after the past few busy weeks they had both had. He chastises himself briefly for the last shreds of self-control he had quickly slipping away from him.

“Well you either did or you didn’t.” Iqe wolfishly grins, as she presses her lips against his ear. Her breasts lightly brush against his upper back, as her voice swoops down into a low, predatory purr, “Which is it, Ser Aymeric?”

Aymeric feels his hands grip the chair tightly for a moment, then relaxes his posture and allows his fingers to calmly scoop Iqe’s chin off his shoulder.

“I _did_ make a mess.” He replies louder with a hint of smugness in his tone, as he reels her in, “What are you going to do about it?”

She finds herself purring loudly at this, her tail swishing around in interest and presses their lips tightly together. Instantly, Aymeric moans in interest prying her mouth open with his warm, syrup-tasting tongue and his hands immediately flying down to her skirt to tug her into his lap.

Iqe abides, eagerly resting her knees either side of his lap and pulls her lips away reluctantly to allow herself a few harsh breaths before she begins to nip and lightly suckle at the side of his jaw and down his neck until she reaches the collar of his armour.

There’s a scuffle as both Warrior of Light and Lord Commander fight to swiftly bare his chest and torso without tearing the fabric or letting the garnishes and embellishments catch on their hair or earrings.

As it hits the floor with a satisfying clank, Iqe’s mouth is back to assaulting Aymeric’s neck and her hands harshly knead and paw at the firm abdomen. Aymeric stifles the groan that threatened to spill from his lips, as her palm brushes past a hardened nipple and he busies himself with untying her braid wanting to feel her shudder against him when he inevitably tugs her white-streaked navy-blue hair with his fist and smashes his lips back against hers. The faint scent of fabric dye and warm cotton with the hint of smoky traces from the fires lit in the Brume drive him wild and urge him to begin prying the buttons of her shirt lose with an eager hand.

He feels the weight of her bare breasts press against his chest, as her shirt starts to loosen and pool around her elbows. Aymeric almost pouts as that weight lifts from him, but he’s treated to the sight of Iqe tugging the shirt off her body with her brows creased in slight frustration. He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the sight, already reaching out to help slip the other sleeve of her arm and sending the shirt to join his armour on the floor.

Light blue eyes scan the porcelain body of the miqo’te shuffling playfully in his lap and openly stares at the skirt twisting, bunching and inching its way up and allowing Iqe’s curvaceous thighs less constrained movement. Sadly, and perhaps to the Lord Commander’s secret delight, the same could not be said for the cock in his trousers.

Aymeric moans and grunts begin to fill the once silent room as the seductive weaver takes her time slowly grinding her hips against his. The mere sensation of her warmth radiating against his was enough for him to toss his head back against the chair and throw his hands firmly around her wrists ceasing her movements. Iqe blinks at him in a daze, before a vicious smirk smears across her face, as she quickly dives in and sinks her teeth deeply into collarbone.

He growls.

And swiftly yanks Iqe back by the hair in a careful motion.

The breathy gasp that’s drawn from Iqe’s mouth reminds Aymeric fondly of how much the Warrior of Light loves to be sexually pushed around.

Ah, but judging from the narrowed, heated glare he receives from the fired up miqo’te, he realises that he’s not meant to be in control tonight.

He’s faintly aware of her tail roughly brushing repeatedly along his forearm and chokes on a slightly pained grunt, as Iqe’s fangs sink back into the reddened patch of skin on his neck. A soft squeeze from him on her arm instantly releases those devilish teeth of hers and he relaxes at the soft kisses peppering apologetically across the dull throb he feels in that area.

His miqo’te was notorious for playing slightly rougher than he can handle sometimes.

Her apology is communicated in the delicate brushing of her lips against his burning face that helps them both to catch their breath and allow the dizzying cloud of lust and want to dissipate for a moment.

“That.” She pants out poking his chest, “Was for spilling the ink over your reports.”

“And what do _you_ get for the ink that has had your tail dipped into and used my arm as a canvas?” Aymeric chuckles with a cocksure smirk, as he gestures to the dried smear of charcoal black ink across his arm.

His laughter grows louder at the embarrassed squeak that the miqo’te responds with as her tail swoops across his arm and is fussed over by the now slightly distraught Iqe.

 


End file.
